Down a Lost Road (19 page)

“
He heard you,” Mykyl said
with a radiant smile.

“
Heard me? But I couldn’t
speak. I couldn’t even call out to Damian, and he was right in
front of me!”

“
You called out to him in
your mind, and to me.”

I remembered that. It made no sense, but I
had to believe him. Somehow my desperate cries had touched the mind
of someone worlds away.

“
You didn’t come too, did
you?”

“
At the last, I did.
Onethyl went before, and took your brother and the young scholar
while Yatol held the portal against the Ungulion. But neither of
you had strength to wait until he could return.”

“
Thank you,” I
murmured.

It seemed a pathetic expression of my
gratitude, but Mykyl lifted two of his wings to the sky and the
whole forest seemed to brighten for a moment. Then it faded, and
Mykyl lifted me to my feet.

“
Go. It was not me you were
seeking, and Enhyla has left him to his thoughts.”

He stretched out one glimmering arm. As I
turned away, I felt a shock of cold darkness surround me and
realized he had gone. I picked my way through the soft foliage and
soon found Yatol, sitting with his back to me on the smooth trunk
of a fallen tree. He had his chin on his fists, pensive. I
hesitated when I saw him. Maybe I should just let him be.

“
You were looking for me?”
he asked suddenly.

I stepped back in surprise, and then went to
sit next to him. “I didn’t make that much noise, did I?”

He smiled but said nothing.

“
Mykyl said I would find
you here. Yatol, thank you for what you did. I never imagined you
would hear me calling you. I thought it was the end…”

“
Of course I heard you.” He
glanced at me sidelong. “It’s a gift.”

“
That you can hear me like
that?”

“
That you can speak to me
like that, and that I can hear it.”

“
Could Enhyla, or any of
the others?”

“
Tyhlaur, perhaps, if he
wished. Davhur – your father – could. And he knew you would be able
to.”

“
How?”

He took my left hand and turned it over,
pushing back the leather bracer as far as it would go. “Because you
bore the sign of the gift at your birth, as did he. As do I.”

I stared down at the faint red mark on my
wrist. I’d always thought it was just a weird birthmark, like a
curling backwards ‘y.’ I used to pretend it had mysterious
significance, and here I discovered that it really did. The thought
made me shiver. Almost as much as the feeling of Yatol’s strong
hand clasping mine.
Still
clasping mine. I kept my hand
perfectly still. If I moved, he would probably let go, and I really
didn’t want him to.

“
Does Damian have
it?”

“
Not quite, but he has
other gifts.” He shot me a scrutinizing glance, then gently
released my hand. “Why did you give him Pyelthan?”

“
I wanted to keep it safe.
I knew they thought I had it. I guess I just hoped that they would
overwhelm me and take me back to Arah Byen, and then discover that
I didn’t have it. And by then Damian could have hidden it
somewhere.”

“
That was a brave
sacrifice.”

The words came slow and halting, then Yatol
furrowed his brow and clenched his jaw hard. I stared at him
curiously. I wanted to take his hand again, but couldn’t get the
nerve.

“
What’s wrong?”

He fixed his gaze on the gentle swaying of
the tree boughs. “Your father once did the same, but when he
returned to Arah Byen there was no one to come to his aid. And the
foolish boy who should have been guarding the portal left it
undefended at the last.”

He stood abruptly and vanished into the
gathering dark.

Chapter 13 – Friends and Family

The night breeze wafted gently over me,
fanning my burning face and eyes. I couldn’t hear anything at all –
no night animals stirred, and the fronds of the treetops made no
sound as they danced on the air. Calming silence. I let myself soak
up the sensation of peace for a few moments, then made my way back
to Enhyla’s hut.

As I drew near, I caught sight of Tyhlaur
entering the hut ahead of me. If Yatol and Enhyla hadn’t
returned…

Suddenly nervous, I hurried after him.

“
Enhyla!” I heard him
calling out, and just as I came to the doorway he grabbed a spear
from against the wall and leveled it at Damian and Kurtis. “Who the
hell are you?”

Damian and Kurtis both jumped half a foot
back, staring at Tyhlaur.

“
Um,” Kurtis said, waving
his hands. “Friends! Friendly!”

Tyhlaur frowned at him, then with a grunt of
exasperation or anger he shoved the spear back against the wall.
Convinced he wouldn’t try impaling one of them, I lingered a moment
longer in the doorway to watch the encounter.

“
More foreigners,” Tyhlaur
muttered, slanting them a peevish glare. “Fantastic.”

He crouched down in front of the fire,
grabbing a stick and stabbing it into the basin to stir the
embers.

“
Who do you suppose he is?”
Damian whispered, still watching Tyhlaur with bewildered
caution.

“
I have no idea,” Kurtis
said. “But he seems to be at home here. He looks a little bit like
Yatol, doesn’t he?”

“
All right, do you want
anything to eat?” Tyhlaur asked, but Damian and Kurtis only stared
at him blankly. “Eat? You know, food? Do you want
something?”

“
He asked if you want
anything to eat,” I said, going in.

“
Mer! Thank God you’re
back. This is so awkward. Not to mention I thought he was going to
gut me.”

I laughed, and Damian scowled.

“
Sorry, D,” I said. “You
have to admit though, it is rather funny. You should have seen your
face.”

“
How long have you been
watching?” he cried. He tried to maintain his frown, but finally
gave up and cracked a smile. “Okay, now that my life isn’t hanging
in the balance, I guess it is. But I’m still glad you’re
back.”

“
He said this is awkward,”
I told Tyhlaur.

“
I suppose,” he said,
grinning. “But are they hungry? There’s bread, and the stew is on
the fire.”

I translated again for Damian and
Kurtis.

“
Awesome. I’m starving,”
Damian said, and Kurtis nodded.

“
Where are Yatol and that
older man?” he asked.

“
Enhyla. I’m not sure where
they are.”

I relayed the question to Tyhlaur.

“
Enhyla is walking alone, I
think. And Yatol…” He shrugged, stabbing the fire, and I wondered
if they were back on speaking terms yet. “They should be back soon,
though. See, we’ll have the scent of my stew wafting all through
the forest, and as soon as they smell it, they’ll have to
return!”

I went and sat down near Kurtis and Damian,
leaning in toward the fire though I wasn’t really cold. Or at least
I didn’t think I was. But my arms were all covered with goose
bumps, and I felt a little achy and unsettled, like the first signs
of the flu. I watched Tyhlaur tearing up a few leaves of some sort
of herb, sprinkling them over the stew and stirring carefully. A
faint, spicy aroma drifted my way. For a moment I closed my eyes,
letting my thoughts shift back to my conversation with Yatol.

“
Can I ask you something?”
I asked Tyhlaur.

He nodded.

“
How long has Yatol been
the portal guardian?”

“
Why do you want to
know?”

“
I was just
curious.”

He set down his spoon and sighed. “A long
time. Years.” I arched a brow at him. “You asked how long! It’s
been years.”

“
What’s been
years?”

Yatol stood in the doorway, holding back the
ivy curtain. Enhyla came up behind him, so Yatol stepped into the
hut to let him enter, but then he just waited there, watching me. I
felt my face drain of color and then flush, and I stared at the
ground. I told myself there was nothing wrong with my question, but
for some reason I didn’t want Tyhlaur repeating it. Maybe it was
the pain in Yatol’s eyes, or his grave still stance. He’d had
enough pain. No more.

My fingers rubbed the mark on my wrist,
fiercely, until the skin turned as red as the birthmark. Tyhlaur
fixed me with a brief glance, and then turned back to his
brother.

“
Since I last used the
gift. She asked if I also had it.”

I let out my breath. Yatol’s expression
didn’t change, and I knew he wasn’t quite convinced. Apparently I
wasn’t alone in the world’s-worst-liar category. But to my relief
Yatol came to the fire and sat down, and asked no more about
it.

“
I’m sorry, I’m being
rude,” I said to Damian and Kurtis, eager to change the subject.
“This is Tyhlaur, Yatol’s brother.” To Tyhlaur, I added, “This is
Damian, my brother, and Kurtis, a friend of my
father’s.”

Tyhlaur nodded to them both, but Yatol
studied Kurtis curiously.

“
You too knew
Davhur?”

“
Davhur? You mean Dr.
Lindon?”

“
His name was Davhur. They
only called him David on Earth,” I explained in
undertones.

“
Yes, I was one of his
students.”

“
Kurtis,” I said suddenly.
“Did anyone around the campus ever call my father
Davhur?”

“
Not that I can
recall.”

“
I just remembered, Mr.
Dansy called him Davhur before the Ungulion arrived. I didn’t even
notice at the time. How would he have known his real
name?”

Kurtis rubbed his jaw, then shrugged. “I
don’t know. He seemed to know a lot about the whole business,
though, didn’t he?”

I frowned and glanced back toward the fire,
only to notice Yatol watching me curiously.

“
He never told you?” he
asked. When I only shook my head in confusion, he smiled. “Tyhlaur,
you remember the stories of Charlon, don’t you?”

“
Of course. Everyone knows
them. He was the greatest thief ever to have lived. Most of the
stories say he never kept a single
ztat
that he stole. It
was all a game, an art. They called him the Dancer because he was
like an acrobat. No one could ever catch him. Or keep him locked up
if they did. No one knows what happened to him. He just disappeared
one day almost thirty years ago, and that was the last anyone ever
saw of him.”

Yatol had never stopped watching me while
Tyhlaur spoke, like he was waiting for my reaction. I met his gaze,
mentally trying to reason out the connection.

“
You mean Charlon the
Dancer somehow came to my world and became Mr. Dansy? The boring
mousy little man who talks like he’s been in Texas his whole life?
But why?”

Yatol’s mouth twitched. “He…had a change of
heart. He finally got caught in the act, trying to steal something…
invaluable…from the academy. It was about the time that your father
was preparing to go through the portal. It was Davhur’s doing – he
told the Lord Master Kayaf not to punish Charlon, if Charlon would
agree to help him. There were other circumstances that made the
whole event a bit more colorful, but that’s the essence of it. And
of course Charlon would have done anything for his brother. Even
live in exile in another world.”

“
His
brother
?” I
gasped. “You’ve got to be kidding! Mr. Dansy is my
uncle
?”

Yatol laughed, while I just sat there gaping
at him, speechless. I turned to see Damian’s reaction, only to
realize he still hadn’t understood a word of the discussion. I
tried three times to get the words out before I succeeded.

“
Mr. Dansy is our
uncle.”

“
What
?” Damian
cried. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“
That’s exactly what I
said.”

I told him what Yatol and Tyhlaur had said,
still trying to wrap my head around the idea that not only was Mr.
Dansy a blood relative, but that he had lived such a colorful life.
It was almost impossible to imagine. And yet it made perfect
sense.

“
But what happened to him
back there?” Damian asked. “Is he okay?”

Yatol grew suddenly serious, dropping his
gaze to his hands. “We could not find him. I do not know if he
managed somehow to escape, or if the Ungulion captured him.”